


Late Night Drinks

by monroesherlock



Series: 3rd Shift in Hell's Kitchen [2]
Category: Jessica Jones (TV), Luke Cage (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 3rd shift in hells kitchen, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, Late Night Conversations, luke's bar, sam and luke grew up going to the same church, sam needs black friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 01:35:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7598305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monroesherlock/pseuds/monroesherlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke raises an eyebrow and tosses the towel he was using to wipe down the bar aside.“Good to see you, Wilson. You’re the one flying around with Captain America, saving the world, and raising hell. Tell me again whose life worked out?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night Drinks

It’s almost four in the morning and Luke’s just about to close when he hears the front door of his bar open and shut. He looks up, ready to dismiss the late night drinker when he sees a familiar face.

“Luke! It’s good to see you, man! How’ve you been?” Sam slides onto an open barstool and looks around the bar, drinking in the atmosphere. “You always talked about opening your own place and look, you actually did it. I’m glad it worked out for you.”

Luke raises an eyebrow and tosses the towel he was using to wipe down the bar aside. “Good to see you, Wilson. You’re the one flying around with Captain America, saving the world, and raising hell. Tell me again whose life worked out?” 

Sam waves him off with a scoff. He’s dressed in a brown, leather jacket, baseball cap, and fucking sunglasses at  _ night _ . As if anyone in this neighborhood would give a shit about one of the Avengers walking around. Hell’s Kitchen is Hell’s Kitchen no matter who’s out and about.

“You know I was in the middle of closing, Wilson. You couldn’t bother to come at a decent hour? I mean, I know you’re a  _ celebrity  _ and everything but the little people still have jobs to do.” Luke pulls two glasses from under the counter and sets them down in front of Sam. “I’m gonna assume your tastes haven’t changed unless you’ve gone and got fancy, hanging with your  _ nice white friends _ on the news.”

Sam snorts at that, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Trust me, a lot of them aren’t as nice as you think. Besides, if you don’t pour me a drink, I might come back there and do it myself. And don’t act like I’m not up here every other weekend to see my mama. It’s not me they’re missing at church Mr. Cage. Your Aunt says hi.”  

Luke laughs outright at that. “Of course, of course. My bad. I forgot the choir boy, Sam Wilson.”

Sam cringes. “I wish everyone would forget choir boy Sam Wilson. Kinda impossible with your mom bringing it up every Sunday. ‘I remember when you were in the choir, Samuel. Couldn’t carry a note to save your life but you tried so hard. When are you gonna bring a nice girl by to meet the congregation?’”

Luke lets out a surprised laugh. “Oh, she’ll never let that go. Ever. Just learn to take it.”  
“Yes, ma’am and no ma’am. Stick to the basics.” Sam agrees. He takes a sip of the bourbon and sighs. “I’m sorry about Reva, man,” he says quietly. He remembers her, was shocked to hear she’d died.

“Me too,” Luke replies quietly before taking a long draw from his glass. It’s never going to go away, he thinks, the lump that rises in his throat every time someone so much as says her name. “I’m sorry about Riley.”

Sam shrugs and looks away, the silence hanging heavy between them. Drunken, late night confessions about supposed bisexuality bubble up in Luke's memory like acid and Sam's terror about what his mom will think still leaves a sharp taste in his mouth. 

“Gotta keep on living, you know? Gotta remind myself I'm not in the ground with him.” He tosses back the rest of his bourbon and sets the glass down with a clink.

“It's easier sayin’ than it is doin’,” Luke replies.

“Ain't it though.” Sam stands and puts his hands in his pockets. “I should head back. My phone’s vibrated at least four times since I've been here. Last thing you need is someone blowing through your front door.” He sounds put upon, like he doesn’t want to leave just yet. 

“You know you're welcome here anytime, Sam.” Luke assures him,  “I mean that. Don't let ‘em get too heavy on you.”

“You either. I've heard the stories. Hell's kitchen has always been a battleground but damn.” Sam shakes his head before digging out a twenty and dropping it in the tip jar.

“You have no idea.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“Eh, hell’s kitchen can clean up its own messes. You focus on saving the world.” Sam’s smile is soft and suddenly it’s like they’re boys again knocking shoulders and making plans for the future. The stakes are even higher now Luke supposes.

“When we were kids, did you think it would be like this?” Sam asks.

“No Sam. No, I didn’t.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Come and see me on Tumblr [here](http://bittlebarnes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
